


The Error of Creation

by jehanne1431



Category: Hebrew Bible
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-15
Updated: 2010-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-13 16:51:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehanne1431/pseuds/jehanne1431
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you do when great expectations are dashed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Error of Creation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kynical](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kynical/gifts).



> I was very pleased to be able to write this small offering for you. Happy Yuletide! It seemed simple enough at the outset, but the more I considered it, the more challenging it seemed, which I enjoyed. I debated about presenting creation through the eyes of a tree or an animal, which I think would have worked just fine, but I finally decided on this. My choice is probably predictable, I admit. I wanted to stay as true to the text as possible, but present it via a fresh perspective that would have (I hope) emotional impact. I don't know if I've succeeded, but I hope you enjoy it.

I was there the day the earth was born.

Of course I was there.  We all were.  But I played a special role—or so I thought.

I was a fool—more fool than those creatures He loves (which is saying something).  I should have known better.

**********  
In spite of what you may have heard or read, the first thing Yahweh created wasn’t the earth.  Or the heavens.  It was time.  

It struck us as a strange concept, and it took getting used to.  You’ve always been subject to time, but we weren’t.  Not at first.  Though He had created us as well, the concepts of _before_ and _after_ , _beginning_ and _end_ had never entered our thoughts.  The idea that something could end....

I wasted little time considering it then, for He had quickly moved on.

With one word, the universe came into being... darkness stretched over a vast distance, filled with nothing more than invisible dust.  I watched Him as He spoke, the ineffable joy that radiated from Him, and I couldn’t help but wonder... was He this way when He created us?  Surely He must have been.  Surely if stretching a wide expanse of darkness brought Him joy, how much more the creation of immortal beings?

One more word brought into existence a nondescript ball of water-covered rock He would later term Earth, placed in a seemingly random corner of the universe.  It seemed nothing at all to me.  He laughed when He saw the expression on my face, told me to be patient.  All things had their time.

He created light next.  I should simply let that statement stand on its own, for you could not possibly understand what it was like to watch light appear for the first time.  True light.  Pure light.  What you know as light—your candles, your fires—are mere shadows of the light I saw.  He did more than create it.  He manipulated it with artist’s hands, caressing it, pulling it from the darkness until the two stood separate, nevermore to be entwined again.  You think you understand the laws of the universe.  I was there when He wrote them.  You know nothing.

He asked me my opinion of His work so far.  I was too awestruck to answer.  With a laugh, He moved on, and in the same way that He forever pulled light from darkness, He pulled sky from sea.

Curious.  Water above and below.  I studied it, but I could not understand.  The vast expanse of the universe, and He was concentrating on this one, tiny, undistinguished rock.

He asked me if I thought it was insignificant.  I did not try to hide from Him my confusion.  What would I do different, He wanted to know.  Naturally, I had my own ideas, but how could I answer that question?  I did not know His intentions.

Indeed, I did not, He told me.

He gathered the waters together, exposing the dry land beneath.  Separation.  Always separation with Him, it seemed.  For a reason I could not fathom, a chill ran down my spine as I considered this.

The Earth was beautiful.  Mountains and valleys, grass and trees, flowers and fruits, and all in colors so vibrant and alive they sang.  I felt my breath catch in my throat as I watched it all come to life.  I wanted to experience it.

It was beautiful, was it not, He said.  I requested permission to go there.  Soon, He told me.  Soon I would go.  But He was not yet finished.  The world was not yet perfect, and He wanted it to be perfect first.

He was creating all of this for us?

A hope and excitement I had never felt before filled me to overflowing.

He divided the light into countless stars and scattered them across the universe with a wide sweep of His hand.  He gathered galaxies and nebulae and brought gravity into being.  He placed one yellow star near the Earth, and called the other planets with their moons into being.  The Earth began to rotate and revolve.  At first, I didn’t understand the purpose, but later that night, I watched the Earth slowly slip into the glow of moonlight, and I wholly forgot the idea of purpose.  The land fairly danced, and the seas sparkled.  What other purpose did it need?

If only you could have seen it then, when it was new.  You fools who think you know beauty (who think you know _everything_ )—I will never understand how He could waste His time—

But I get ahead of myself.   

I couldn’t wait to take possession of this wondrous place.

It _was_ good, He admitted.  Did I like how He scattered the stars?  Were the nebulae not pretty?

I don’t think I could have placed them better.  I wanted to know if it was ready.  Not yet, He told me.  

The wait was unbearable.  I wished He had never created time.

And then He did something I could not have anticipated.  He created other living creatures—for the land, the seas, the skies.  To be certain, they were beautiful, but they were hardly as exalted as we were.  But they knew their Creator, and they could communicate with one another.  When we took possession of the Earth, they would surely look up to us even as we looked up to Him.  Not in the same way, of course.  

That would be wrong, after all.

With a sigh of contentment, I waited patiently for Him to turn to us—to me, as the first amongst the immortal ones—and present us with this gift He had fashioned for us.

But He did not.

Rather, He stepped down into His new creation, knelt in the dust of the land, and began to form a figure within.  He molded the dirt into something that roughly resembled our bodies.  I stared at it, frowning, confused.

“His greatest creation,” murmured Michael.

“His greatest—?” I shot him a look.  “ _We_ are His greatest creation.”  But I felt a strange twinge in my stomach as I turned my attention back to what He was doing.

He leaned over His lump of clay and breathed on it.

It came to life.  It rose from the ground.  It spoke to Him.  He called it _man_ , and He gave to it attributes He had only given to us—attributes that reflected His own nature—emotions, intellect, will.

The dust was like us.  _You_ are like us, and you are too blind to know it.

I hardly considered the bitter taste of that thought before He went further.  From the man, He created for him a mate, a creature he called _woman_.  

In spite of myself, I found her beautiful beyond all desiring.

She and the man had a relationship unlike anything we had ever known.  I watched them discover one another, and I could not understand why the man should receive such a gift that we were denied.  Perhaps when we ruled the Earth....

But He had gifts still to give, gifts for the man and woman, and He gave them more than I could bear.  He gave them the Earth.  Our Earth.

My Earth.

 _They_ would rule it, and all in it.  _They_ would fill it.  Not us, the glorious immortal, but _them_.  Dust and clay.  He put them in the most beautiful of gardens and gave them everything.  They’d done nothing to earn such favor, and had only one silly, simple instruction to follow in order to keep it.

(and, of course, you were incapable of keeping it.  Simple, gullible, _stupid_ humans.)

I had never felt so betrayed.  The Earth was ours.  Rightfully ours.  Surely there had been some mistake.  Something I hadn’t understood.  Something I had missed.

I would go to Him, talk to Him.  He would clear up this misunderstanding.  I approached Him with determined step—

And saw His face as He gazed on them.  He loved them, these creatures of dust.  The way He looked at them... I had never seen Him look at any one of us like that.  How could such insignificant creatures even begin to comprehend what He was doing for them?  But He didn’t seem to care.  I felt my heart sink and my feet stall.

The only misunderstanding had been mine.

He loved them.  He loved them more than He loved us.  More than He loved me.  And all of this... all of this had been for them.  Had always been for them.

At that moment in time, something in me changed.  I could not look at Him the same.  He was no longer worthy of my worship.  

He was no longer worthy of His position.

I would supplant Him.  I would destroy these foolish creatures of His.  I would rule far better than He had.

I was not the only one who felt this way.  There were many, many others, and I felt their gazes as they all looked to me for leadership.

I boldly stepped toward His throne—toward _my_ throne.

***********

I consider the concept of time a great deal now.  It is all I have, all that drives me.  I know that some day, some day far too soon in light of eternity, my time will be over.  My reign will be over. 

I don’t intend to go meekly.  As it always should have been, the Earth is now mine.  For a time.  He gave it to me, like a consolation prize, and this creation of His that He loves so much—oh, how I’ve turned it on its head!  And the plants are more sensible to it than you humans are.  How He has wasted His blood, sweat, and tears on you!  My revenge is small comfort for the price I have paid, but it’s all I have, and I will never let go of it.  I fell, farther than you can know, and it was all His fault.

No.  It’s all _your_ fault.  You weak, worthless things.  You think time is linear, but it’s not.  I fell and I continue to fall.  And before I hit the ultimate bottom, I will take as many of you with me as I can.  You deserve no less.  You ruined _everything_.

I still remember the delight I felt the day man fell.  It didn’t take you very long to screw things up.  I could have told Him that would happen.  Of course, He no longer sought my opinion on things by that point.

The woman had returned to the heart of the garden.  She doted on pretty, colored things, and there was a serpent near her, glistening in green and blue and gold.

I had never been a serpent before.

But there’s always a first time for everything.


End file.
